I emerge from the cave covered in dirt. I've been wriggling flat on my belly through the deepest parts of the cave, where every rock is covered with a thick layer of brown mud. It isn't simply my clothes, the top of my bald head is streaked with muddy smears, and my bags are earth decorated. As I proudly walk the 6km back to town, past the crowds of some full fifty workmen turning this impressive cave into an unimpressive tourist attraction, I get many smiles at my appearance. Apparently the future tourists wont be interested in the cave unless there is lots of concrete, with this cave featuring some special concrete forms, the concrete barriers on the path are shaped like caricature tree logs. I feel there is some doublethink involved in creating concrete structures camouflaged, and failing from the very beginning, to look like renewable natural materials. The smiles continue after I reach the main road, the air is light. As in Nepal the people here know life, they can laugh with warmth. I'm happy to play the comic travelling idiot I wouldn't have it any other way.
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